


The Coolkid, The Scientist, And The Hole In The Closet

by OverthinkingAntagonizing



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game), Homestuck
Genre: Also beta readers, Comments v e r y much appreciated, My First Fanfic, This has been a public service announcment, english is not my first language, need 'em, please forgive any mistakes but also put them below for me to fix!, this is gonna be fun
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-04-21 15:27:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14287902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OverthinkingAntagonizing/pseuds/OverthinkingAntagonizing
Summary: In a desperate need of a break from the meteor life, Dave goes to visit an old memory of his far away home in the dream bubbles. Through a bizarre incident, or perhaps not, he finds himself in an unfamiliar part of the bubbles- or, so he thinks.A familiar group of survivors comes to his aid. Who knows. Maybe they'll even find a way out.





	1. Dream bubble nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY FUCK HOW DID CHAP. 7 GET HERE?? Somehow, when I finished chapter 7 I replaced chapter 1 with it. I am highly confused, and it is fixed now. How the fuck...

It's been a while since he had some time to himself. With the trolls being louder than life, Rose losing herself to the drink and his personal... Complications about his past, there was never a quiet moment to settle down.

That's why the next time they passed through a dream bubble, Dave did the banana and split. Finding a quiet, lonesome dream bubble wasn't a problem, as long as he knew where he was aiming.

Funny how a rooftop he once feared could be such a comforting thing after so long.

He sat and watched the fake, busy streets so far under his feet. Just the memory of cars and of people and of noises of hustle and bustle.

With a sigh, he put his head in his hands, rubbing under the sunglasses. "i need a break" he muttered, and fell on his back, looking at the fake, blazing sun. "camping sounds nice i could find more things to preserve"

Half smiling at his ironically sincere sentiment, he rolled over and got up, prepared to explore the house he lived in so long ago, or the memory of it as remembered by a dead him. Maybe he'll get to see his own body again. Woopdy freaking doo.

Descending the stairs he so often fell on, he entered his home and opened the door. It seems that in this memory, all the traps were already triggered. How convenient. Sneaking through the kitchen with an old sense of deja vu he passed by his brother's room. With a squint he eyed his brother's closed door, wondering if there's a dead him's brother behind it. Avoiding the door entirely, he slipped right into his own room with a sigh of relief. He still couldn't figure out how he felt for his brother. It may take much more time than a year and a half, or maybe actually talking to someone about it. After locking the door (a bro NEVER unlocks a bro's door. Thems the rules.  
.... Of course he never managed to catch his brother opening the door at all when he appeared in the room out of nowhere), he turned back to look at his old room. It seemed too empty. A lot of his stuff weren't there, like his makeshift redroom or a big part of his preserved animal collection. This is probably a memory when he was way younger, maybe when he was around 7, when he started that collection?

Amused but disappointed, he explored his half empty room, from one wall to the other. Remembering he used to hide all the stuff he didn't want to share in the closet, he swiftly opened the door to reveal-

7-years-old him's fashion sense. God, he's glad he got over the neon sweatbands phase.

Crouching to look for the sweet memory of rich apple juice, he patted the dark floor of the closet. He reached deeper, leaning in with a concentrated scowl. Suddenly, he couldn't feel the wooden closet's floor under his hand and he slipped, faceplanting into his old socks. Fetching a flashlight from his drawer, he investigated closer, only to find a dark hole at the bottom of his closet.

It took a while for him to decide what to do. He did say he wanted a break, after all, the same people for three whole years would drive him nuts without his quiet time, but a mysterious hole in the dream floor was a risk he wasn't sure was worth taking. Then again, the moment the meteor gets out of the dream bubble they're all going to wake up on it again like nothing happened, so what's the worst that could happen?

He should have known better than to ask that.

The universe loves irony, doesn't it.


	2. Ironic misunderstandings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confusion ensues, but will be sorted out shortly

Jumping into the mysterious hole was an easy feat. Startled by the absolute darkness, and the speed of his decension, a shriek escaped Dave's mouth. It grew to a scream when all at once the darkness cleared, and he found himself 10 meters over the ground, in imminent crashing course. In the second and a half that took him to fall almost the rest of the way he had a sudden realisation, and with a flap of his cape he floated up straight- he forgot he could fly. Landing softly, he looked around- this seemed like no dream bubble he could recognise. The ground was absolutely flat as far as the eye could see, with the occasional intervention of trees in the distance, and covered with faded green grass. He could hear the chirping of birds, and almost as soon as he landed a crow approached him. He gave it a nasty look. "i know youre looking at me" he accused, flustered from the graceless entrance. He began walking, trying to bring up the map of the vail ingrained in his brain as a time player to no avail. "i dont suppose you know where i am right" he asked the bird, which seemed to follow his lead. Soon enough he found himself on the verge of the forest. Eying the still-persistent bird suspiciously, he walked on the forest's limit for just a little bit longer before stepping in. He seemed to have lost the bird in the trees not too long after.  
  
A few hours of idle walking passed, the forest only filled with the sound of far away chirping and his own quiet rant, which he couldn't seem to stop himself from muttering under his breath.  
  
Not that he ever could.  
  
Suddenly, a shout sounded from the distance. "I swear I heard someone!" said a melodic, if somewhat choked voice. "And I'm telling you that's impossible." answered another, older tone. "It is simply absurd yet another one will lend here. Especially after that horrid Maxwell got dethroned."  
  
From the greenery came out two worn out hikers. One was a filthy young man, in his 30's, with the most ridiculous hair Dave has ever seen. The other was an elderly woman, carefully squinting at her companion through a pair of half-moon glasses. They both stopped when they saw the teen standing, awkward, in front of them.  
  
For a moment there was silence.  
  
A long, long moment.  
  
"I TOLD YOU!" exclaimed the man, gesturing at Dave excitedly. "I. TOLD. YOU! I knew I heard someone!"  
  
Shocked, the older woman cleared her throat into her fist. "It seems that right you are, Wilson... How peculiar. Say, boy, what might be your name?"  
  
A distant call of the crow.  
  
Another, as Dave considered his answer.  
  
"you should know something like this on the first date" he decided to quip, smirking at them as their expressions turned to utter bewilderment.  
  
"I'm sorry, what?" asked the man, Wilson, apperantly. "I- excuse me, I don't believe I understand- first date?"  
  
Dave snickered, aware of the pointlessness of the action. "its dave. my name is dave" he answered. Clearly, his fine-tuned irony is lost on these people.  
  
They exchanged suspicious looks, and Dave found himself wondering if they ever heard the name "Dave" before. "Dave... Right.... I am Wilson, and this is miss Wickerbottom." was the answer, and the elderly woman nodded politely. "You're... New here, right?"  
  
"well duh" he crossed his arms, "i dont look nearly as dirty as you right? "i mean i haven't washed these pjs in a while but i think they clean themselves"  
  
They exchanged another set of looks. "Well... Um, Dave," started the older lady, "Who would you say brought you here?"  
  
"brought me here?" wondered Dave, raising his eyebrow, "no one. i jumped in the hole myself. why you askin'?"  
  
"Wait, what do you mean you jumped in yourself?" asked Wilson.  
  
"i mean that i jumped in myself. there was a hole in my closet floor and i jumped right in. what else would i mean?" he answered. His head started throbbing. This may have not been such a good idea after all.  
  
Wilson turned red in the face. "In your CLOSET FLOOR- Is he really THAT DESPICABLE to catch kids who haven't even done a thing?? Oh, I'll show him-"  
  
"Wilson. Please. Before jumping to conclusions, shouldn't we at least ask that monster if he's the one who put the hole there? If someone else is bringing new people here..."  
  
Still red, Wilson huffed and nodded. "Right. But if it is him, I'm ripping his head clean off, I don't care how ungentleman-like it is."  
  
"Agreed," nodded the older woman, "Dave, dear, since you're new, you might not be aware of all the dangers in these lands. I would recommend joining us, for at least a few nights."  
  
He raised his second eyebrow. A few nights? The moment he'll go to sleep here he'll be right back on the meteor. Which, he supposed, was a good enough reason to feel safe saying yes to their offer. He did want an adventure, right? He nodded. "yeah sure ill come. do you have apple juice?"  
  
Recognizing his quippy tone already, Wilson sighed. "I would kill for a good glass myself, if we're honest. Come, the camp is this way."  
  
And the three began stepping into the greenery once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hhh I'm posting all five capters I have ready today then will get back on writing more


	3. Weirdly Unfamiliar Faces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Camp has been reached, and a new face awaits.  
> Kind of lalonde like.  
> Odd, because she clearly has nothing to do with them.

They soon emerged in a forest clearing littered with chopped down tree-trunks. Dave returned to mumbling to himself in the short walk, mumblings that after a few minutes his two guides stopped answering to. In the clearing there was a small campsite, with a blackned from use fire pit, what looked like a rough pot on a seperate cooking fire, and only a few walls standing around the site. The site was empty save for a young blonde (remarkably Lalonde-like) girl tending the boiling pot.  
  
"We've only built so much so far. We're planning on finishing the walls this week." admitted Wilson at Dave's question. "HEY WENDY!" he called, and the girl raised her eyes from the cooking fire. "WHERE'S YOUR UNCLE? WE HAVE A WORD TO EXCHANGE WITH HIM."  
  
"Maxwell has gone berry picking," answered the girl sharply, returning to her pot, "With any luck, he won't return."  
  
The elderly woman's lip raised at the girl's mean quip. "As much as that would be pleasant, young lady, he's our best chance out. We wouldn't like to lose him that quickly."  
  
The girl rolled her eyes. "I am willing to bet I can decipher that dark book of his myself. He's not that needed."  
  
"definitely lalonde-ish," whispered Dave, "wait- i heard that dude's name before. who the fuck is that maxwell guy again?"  
  
Miss Wickerbottom's expression turned dark, and Wilson's turned hateful, as they both turned to look at Wendy.  
  
"My uncle, and the man responsible for our entrapment here," replied the girl, disgusted, "Who might you be? And since you are here, how could you not know uncle Max?"  
  
Dave shrugged. "i still dont know where 'here' is, not that that fucking matters. i dont even know you people, which is weirder. arent the dream bubbles supposed to be only for our fuckton of versions or something?"  
  
They all stared at him with question in their eyes.  
  
"right. you dont know what the fuck i just said. got it. dont worry about it," he shook his head, and looked around again. "this is getting weirder by the second..." he sighed under his breath, as the three exchanged another set of quizzical looks. "Right..." started Wilson, "Well then, uh, Wendy, this is uh... Dave, he's new. Give him a tour while we go find Maxwell. This is urgent enough to stop his berry-picking."  
  
"wait youre leaving me here?" asked Dave, taking another look at the camp, "didnt you say something about this worlds dangers earlier?"  
  
"Wendy is more than capable of defending the camp. And you seem like a strong and energetic enough lad, right?" Wilson gave him a pat on the back, which Dave winced at, "You should be able to survive until we're back."  
  
Perfectly aware he was probably the most skilled fighter there, Dave shrugged. "right. well, have fun hunting uncle maxy or whatever." he turned to the campsite, sitting on the grass beside a makeshift wall. Watching them leave, he shook his head to himself. "for an adventure this is starting out weird. but hey... i did say camping sounded fun," he smirked, amused by the accidental irony. "yo, wendy, so whats this places story?" he shouted to the girl, leaning against the wall to listen to a tale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I liked this one a lot :)


	4. A Child Tells A Tale Of Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> History of the world, as said by Wendy Carter

Wendy turned to look at him with her tired, impossibly bright eyes, like the sands on LOLAR. "You wish to know the story of this land?" she asked, a dull, bored tone replacing her previous disgust. The tone felt familiar- the tone he always aspired to have, of true neutrality, one that his brother rarely deviated from. "yeah, hit it," he smirked, "if im here i might as well learn right?"  
  
She turned from the pot to him, smoothing her skirt. "Very well. I shall tell you all I know, though that is limited to what I have been told.  
  
"Many years ago, there was a man named William Carter. William Carter was a magician in his profession, a rather unsuccessful one. Fighting to earn his living, he turned to less than legal sources for a loan. But he never managed to return it. Desperate, and hunted by the very same criminals he loaned from, William ran to the land of opportunity, in which he faked his death when the train he was riding crashed. However, he never lost touch with his brother, Jack Carter, his wife, and their twin daughters. He continuously wrote to them about a mysterious book he found, filled with recepies, diagrams and blueprints for true, dark magic. He told them not to worry, for any news that will come to them of his death are untrue, and that to hide he shall go by a different name altogether. Thus, Maxwell was born. Using the book's power, Maxwell upgraded his act, and became a well-known and well-paid artist of the stage. He hired an assistant- a sweet young woman named Charlie, with whom he fell in love. They spent years with eachother, traveling the country, going on stage, and amazing the audience. That is, until one day, on a fateful January evening, when the show could no longer go on.  
  
"They were on stage. Charlie presented the audience with the book. "Simply a normal book!" she claimed. Then she handed it to Maxwell. With a wave of his hand, he stuck his hand into the book's depths. But what he found there was far from the usual. Shadows erupted from the book, hands of darkness catching and dragging both the magician and his lover into the depths of the book, wreaking the stage along with them. These two were never seen again in the mortal realm.  
  
"They were sent here. The assistant was merged with the darkness itself, and became the queen of the night- a monster prowling in the shadows. The magician became the puppet king of the shadows- bound to his throne, but commanding the chessboard entire. This chessboard was the world around him- only dust and ruin. Given the opportunity, he built it up to an island filled with greenery, life, and evil. To feed the creatures that kidnapped him, only known to him as "Them", he needed fresh, sane minds, for which he kidnapped more people from the world outside this one. One by one they were brought here, and one by one they died by the hands of this island's vicious inhabitants. That is, until one man- one that you have already met- Named Wilson Percival Higgsbury, has survived for long enough to reach the king's throne, and with it- the king himself. The king, desperate to escape his position under Their thumb, begged the man to free him, without informing him that by doing so, the scientist submits himself as the only candidate to replace him.  
  
"Trapped, the scientist was not a king for very long- for, seeing her opportunity, one who has been coveting the throne for a very long time, has taken a step. The queen came to dethrone the new king. Throwing him back to the wilderness, she willingly took the throne to herself, readily submiting herslef to the dark, vile creatures that she was now one of. The scientist landed back where he came from- only now both him and the former king were there together. After much fighting, and several attempts at taking the old king's life, they agreed to cooperate, hoping to survive. The magician, utilising his knowledge of the world, hatched a plan to escape the island. Alas, that plan not only failed, but brought horrid results. The machine, instead of letting them escape, opened a doorway to the king's other islands- for he had many prepared, each with another, lonely survivor. These survivors were now brought together, and though that seems like a less lonely path to follow, the new queen had other plans. She adopted the machine to herself, and tweaked the world's rules- just enough so it will be equally as difficult to work as a group as it was alone. For what aim, I do not know.  
  
"Now I, The Librarian, The Scientist and The Puppet Master are here together, working to survive this horrid world, hoping hopelessly to one day return to the world we once knew. Now, you are here, and how and why is lost on me. That is the story as far as I heard it from the mouth of my despicable uncle and the gentleman scientist."  
  
Wendy finished her story, her voice without a hint of care to it or to her audience. Dave, who was silent for its duration, finally found it appropriate to respond.  
"wow, sounds like a mess you got yourself into here," he deadpanned, a look of concentration hidden behind his glasses, "so wilson and the library chick went to find your shitty uncle so they can ask him why the fuck am i here. got it."  
  
"Correct, Dave. Though I don't see how he should know. He is no longer the ruler, after all."  
  
"wait, if it's maxy's fault y'all are in here, and he's your uncle- he kidnapped his own niece?"  
  
"As I've said. The man is nothing short of despicable."  
  
"wow, no kidding. no wonder wilson tried to kill the guy- you said he did, right?"  
  
"Indeed. Attempted to choke the life out of him. A shame he failed."  
  
Dave shook his head, processing the loaded story. "would've done the same if im honest. fucking hell. kidnap people to feed- what, their minds? to some evil shadow creatures."  
  
Wendy turned back to her unattended pot- now overboiled- and took it off the fire before the liquids spilled out. "Correct again. You seem to have listened."  
"well, duh. i did ask didnt i?"  
  
"I was attempting a sarcastic jab, Dave."  
  
"...oh" Dave fell silent. Her tone, enviably-monotone, should have been easier for him to decipher. He's been getting rusty since his Brother's death. "right."  
  
Wendy sighed, and looked over at the horizon, where three silhouettes appeared against the setting sun- sundown already? Dave's inner clock said it's been barely two hours.  
  
"They're back. Make yourself useful and bring me the bowls from the chest there, alright?" requested Wendy, opening the pot to reveal some thick soup. Dave silently complied, too deep in thought to pay mind to the second jab. "and now we'll meet king douchebag himself..." he muttered, staring at the tallest silhouette of them all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mostly backstory, had a lot of fun writing this one


	5. Shadows and Bickering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An argument, rather one sided. Dave has a lot to say.

It wasn't long before the silhouettes got close enough to discern detail, and then reached camp. Aside from Wilson and the elderly librarian, there was only one other person in the approaching group- a freakishly tall, most certainly at least 6 feet, adult in his 40's or 50's, wearing a ridiculous suit featuring shoulder spikes (god damn shoulder spikes!) and looking endlessly annoyed.

The group reached camp, where Dave stood waiting and Wendy organised bowls of soup beside the yet unlit firepit. It was oddly noticable that one of the bowls had less soup, and Dave easily guessed who it was for.

"Is that the boy?" asked the infamous Maxwell, reaching for something in his pocket that he did not seem to find as he examined Dave with narrow-eyed bewilderment. "She wouldn't... And he says he fell into here? By himself?"

"im right here you know," mentioned Dave, adopting a contrary stance, "and yes. he says he fell in here all by himself. straight from the hole in my imaginary fucking closet."

Maxwell raised an eyebrow. "Imaginary closet? Really?"

Rolling his eyes behind the shades, Dave couldn't help but bare his teeth. "you don't get to judge me, asshole. you listened to a magic book that told you to kidnap your fucking niece. like, how does that even work? 'oh man this book looks interesting i guess ill read it oh wait what it talks?? what did you say? oh, my brother's precious child? yeah of course ill imprison her on a death island thats fun for the whole fucking family!"

"That's NOT how it-"

"and then you up and went fucking psycho kidnapping all sorts of innocent people to feed their brains to fucking horrorterror-knockoffs and who knows how many even died here, and then- guess what? you get overthrown by a fucking man half your age whos been starved for days. like ive heard of psychos but this story is just plain ridiculous. the fucking mayor knows how to rule a monarchy better than you, and he hates kings! not that i blame him all the royalty ive met were assholes- like those chess pieces basically killing their people for a war they cant win or those purple blooded freaks in the dream bubbles- have you met them they think they're so superior like "yeah people get intemidated by my royal blood thats why they wont date me" yeah fuck off loser, you-" he paused, processing just how far off trail he went, the whole group staring at him with no words.

"that metaphor got away from me. or is it a whatchamacallit- the one you compare not say it is the thing- ugh i should have listened more in lit class- nevermind. point is, fuck. you."

"Not a very polite nor bright boy, are you," Maxwell spat, after clearing his head from the shock, "That's not how it all happened. I didn't have a choice. It was obey or suffer, then obey. And Wendy- well. She was an obvious choice." he scoffed, eyeing his niece, who refused to look at him.

"the obvious choice?? shes your family! why the fuck-"

"Because she knew the dark arts, pal. It wasn't too hard to teach her what to do to get here."

"oh, so its all about your convenience? you fucking-"

"It's about survival, boy. You haven't been here a day, I doubt you'll understand. But there are horrors here you do not disagree with if they command."

"right, like i dont know shit cause i wasnt here. ill let you know ive been through probably way more shit than any of you combined, and-"

"Can you continue this over the fire?" suggested Wilson, stepping between the two, who at this point were standing so close they could strangle each other with ease, "Darkness is coming."

Maxwell stood straight, his expression turning to something almost wistful. "Charlie will be here soon. Right. Dave, as much as it perplexes even me that you're here, at least try to be useful and keep your mouth shut."

"Like you have the right to command any of us," scoffed Wendy from the lit fire pit, "Dave can and will talk as much as he pleases. The one who should make himself useful and silent is you."

"Oh, so already on the new guy's side, my dear?" Answered Maxwell, his words dripping venom. "Respect your-"

"Her elders?" asked wickerbottom, handing Wilson his soup. "She is. She is respecting me when I tell her to let you go to hell, excuse my language."

Dave smiled. "damn, the girls got some balls here." he smirked at Maxwell, a taunting look behind his glasses.

"You should come here near the fire before darkness reachs there." provided Wilson, pulling Dave towards the fire. "We don't want it to get you."

"it? like, the darkness? what the fuck can it do to me?" chuckled Dave, looking at the thick, opaque shadows. "there's nothing there."

Exchanging looks with the rest of the group, Wilson let his shoulder go. "Suit yourself. Don't say I didn't warn you."

Just to prove he's right, Dave stayed standing as the darkness slithered all the way to him, and instantly his sight was lost. "shit, this is dark..." he murmured. Then he heard something- a whispered screech, a banshee's growl, the sound of screams when your vocal cords are punctured.

He spent the night as close to the fire as he could manage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dave is a n g r y which is fun to write


	6. Circulation of Insanity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave sees shadows at the corner of his eye. There's a logical explanation for his, surely.

The second day was much more tiresome than the last. He didn't sleep all night, expecting to be sent back to the meteor once he falls asleep in the bubbles. Truthfully, he expected to be out of there already. usually they appeared back on the meteor anyway when it left the bubble. then again, time was weird around these parts.

Even so, his exhaustion was unusual. Dreambubbles were like lucid dreams- you still somehow got some rest.  
He worked with the survivors today. More Specifically, Wilson, who needed a hand in chopping down wood. Wickerbottom (who he started calling miss W for short), was all the way back at camp, doing some writing. He was told her books are magic, which he could believe quite easily.  
Still, magic was fucking creepy man.

He found out he had a massive headache this day. Probably because he hadn't slept at all, which is understandable. Still, he wasn't used to this anymore. 3 years of god tier ensured sickness would never come, which was just as convenient as the self-cleaning pajamas. At least those still worked.

"yo will, how many so far?" he called, picking up the last piece of his chopped down tree.

"I have 6 logs, but we need much more until we can rebuild that wall. I personally think hay walls were a pretty bad idea in the first place, but they were better than nothing." Wilson answered back, sighing.  
Dave chuckled- always has to be right, huh? His mind went back to the night before. His hands rose by themselves to a self-given hug at the chills that went through his spine.

"you know, beside that night monster bullshit i haven't seen a single monster here so far. where are those sons of bitches?"

"Oh, I'm certain you'll see them soon, they never truly leave us alone. Don't tell me you're actually excited to see them?"

"nah man, just curious."

Of course, he wasn't just curious. Throughout the entire previous night, he was talking to the survivors. Maxwell didn't like him from the start, but seemed almost desperate to be listened to. He was spilling all the exposition he could, whenever it was relevant. Dave would think it's boring, if it wasn't so different than what he would expect from a dream bubble.

He was starting to think it wasn't one, and the thought terrified him.

He decided to sleep, this night. see if it launches him back to the meteor. He needed to know he could leave. The survivors- they seemed so desperate to disappear from that place.  
Their eyes were what threw him off. Wendy's were White like the usual ghost's, a fact he attributed to, well, actual ghost-ness. Miss W's eyes were always squinting, so he could barely see them, let alone if they're pupil-less or not.  
But Wilson's and Maxwell's?  
Definitely Alive.

"i have like, 15 logs already." He backpedaled, leaving that train of thought behind.  
"15 logs? When did you have time to chop down so many, When I only managed 6? I have been doing this for months- You've just gotten here!" Wilson exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air.

Dave cheated, of course.  
Time travel is a very useful tool in the fight against tree-kind.

"dont worry about it, im just a fast dude."

Something moved in the corner of his eye, and he made a sharp turn.  
Nothing.  
The lack of sleep must be getting to him.  
Even though it was just one night and he is very used to sleepless nights.  
Somehow, this felt different.

"hey, uh- you see that?" he asked, turning again and again in search.

"See what, Dave?" Wilson's head popped from behind his half-chopped tree, eyes darting from side to side.

"i dont even know, it disappeared before i could take a look." He answered, running his hand through his hair.  
"Dave... was it in the corner of your eye?" Wilson's tone darkened, and he walked to meet Dave where he stood. "Somewhat dark, and when you looked where it should have been when you turned, it wasn't there anymore?"  
"oh, is this some sort of local forest thing or something? because that was pretty accurate." Dave breathed out. Maybe this was normal?

Wilson turned somber. "Dave, I think I know what it was. I personally don't quite understand them myself, and I'm certain there's a better explanation to them than what I was given, but..."  
he cleared his throat,  
"These are the symptoms of these filthy creatures seeping into your mind. Last night, when you let the darkness catch up to you- Told you that was a bad idea by the way- you let them in. They thrive in the dark and most easily attack those who are afraid."  
"i wasnt-" Dave started, ready to defend his honor, or at least pride.  
"Don't tell me you weren't. With these odd clothing you're wearing, no way you needed that close proximity of the fire for the warmth."  
"well i- what are you even trying to say?" Dave's heartbeat quickened, his tone rose, "that that night monster thingy- what, got into my head?"  
"Well, yes and no. Its kind got into your head- the shadowy creatures Wendy explained to you feed off the minds in this world."  
"waitwaitwait-" Dave short circuited- his mind was being [i]fed upon???[/i]  
"youre telling me- and tell me if i got it wrong- that that thing in the corner of my eye was a fucking shadow horrorterror-lite? one that is trying to eat my brain from the inside?"  
"That's- a creative way to put it. You are mostly correct. It's not trying to eat your brain, more like- your sanity."  
"how- how do i get rid of it?" He was pacing, he now noticed, and stopped abruptly in front of Wilson. "[i]can[/i] i get rid of it? is that even something that is a thing?"  
"Yes, it is most certainly "A Thing"." Wilson chuckled lightly. "You simply have to put some effort into calming yourself down, working the fear out of your system. When it doesn't have a way in, it gets cut off- technically, They're only in there as long as there's an opening. Think of it like electricity- it's only flowing when the circle is closed."  
"so like, my mind is flowing out one side, the shadows are getting in the other- holy fuck, that's- dude, you aren't calming me the fuck down! that was fucking morbid holy shit-" He didn't know what to do with his hands anymore, so he crossed them. He tried to smooth his face over, but the result only seemed more perturbed.  
"Well, yes. I suppose it is... these creatures are very much morbid on their own." Wilson shook his head and sighed.  
"I thought knowing what exactly they're doing to you, and how they operate, should be calming rather than frighting. I was wrong, apparently. Sorry." His apology seemed genuine, Trying to calm down what for him was merely a child.

Wilson left his half finished tree to live another day, and motioned for Dave to come. "Come, let's go back to camp. Some taffy should help calm your nerves."

Dave hesitantly followed, his eyes darting around, searching for more shadows in the corners of his eyes. He found plenty.

Back at camp, and a bit of conversation with miss W and surprisingly good taffy later (The said they made it themselves. He asked where the plastic, colourful wrappers came from. They had no answer.) he was feeling much better. He tested it, his eyes searching for more misplaced shadows, but he found none.

Still, he had enough. Time to go back to the meteor, meet his friends, and forget this strange, frightening dream bubble.

That night, he went to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was a bit hard to write due to writer's block. Thankfully I managed it anyway, but I really don't kno if it's any good! I'm in need of beta readers, if anyone is interested!


	7. Steep, Slippery Slope Is The Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave isn't happy, and it shows, the others are concerned.

He woke up.

This is not what he wanted.

"What do you mean you're not supposed to be here?!"  
"that im not fucking supposed to still be in this shitty bubble of shittiness and mindfucks! im supposed to be safely back at the meteor. back with karkat and the mayor and rose and her girlfriend and everyone fucking else and-"  
"I do not know who you are referring to- I won't even ask about the "meteor"- but what did you EXPECT? To wake up somewhere else than you fell asleep in? Are you out of your mind this early?"

Miss W sure could sound like a scolding, old-fashioned grandma, or teacher. He was almost scared she'll get out a long wooden ruler, and, you know where this goes.

"you dont understand, this- this HAS to be a dream bubble, which means im supposed to be the fuck outta here if i go to sleep! but- fuck, well guess what! im still here!!!" he exclaimed, waving his hands around to emphasize his words. "which means this is not a fucking dream bubble- then i fucking ask myself, where the HELL AM I and also why am i here?? and where are my friends- god, they don't even know im here! did they even notice im gone? karkat must have- rose is probably too drunk... ive been to the bubbles tonight, but- i was all alone. maybe this place has its own bubbles? i-"  
"Dave. You're rambling." Shooshed Wendy, as grave as always. "We don't understand half the terms you're saying. Dream bubbles? From context, it sounds like some place you visit in your dreams, that is supposed to have others in it. Did you expect to meet those- kur cat? And Rose? There? I understand you thought this was one of these bubbles, which... Would explain why you didn't freak out as badly as I would have expected. Much like you are doing now."

"ill let you know that striders do NOT freak out! im just- confused, and angry, and panicky, and dont know what to fucking do and-"

"That's a freakout, darling." Stated miss W, putting her hand on his shoulder. "You need to clm down. this isn't healthy for your mind."

"oh RIGHT, im also stuck here in the land of fucking mind shadows and night monsters! oh how lovely another fucked up land we have to fight our way fucking through how FUCKING BEAUTIFUL!"

"The land of..." Maxwell, standing on the sidelines, furrowed his brow, "Why is this format familiar..."

"and also theres king douche! and i can't fucking go home and my friends dont know im here and who knows if ill ever see them again and-"

"Welcome to the club." sighed Wilson."We have Taffy."

Dave collapsed into a cross-legged sit. He was holding his head, trying to process the realization. "i- youre right. youve been like this- for how long already? we.we have to get out of here. ill get us fucking out of here. that's a goddamn promise."

"Yeah, right," Maxwell rolled be cause we haven't tried and failed, pal. Listen here, I am the one who made this place, and even I don't know a way out! What can a kid like you hope to do that I can't?"

It seems like he was right.

It's been a few weeks. Dave has grown agitated, jumpy, impatient. He's been using his time travel far more now, trying to find a way out. He has also been helping the survivors out. They were his responsibility now after all.

he's been searching for materials at the break of dawn, time paused so the others won't wake up before he's finished. He refused to get them involved in his careful time loops. He has been making impressive progress, and the survivors have been able to build up their base so much faster. Unfortunately, they were starting to catch on. He knew they would, but that doesn't mean he anticipated it. If it was up to him, they would never know. Alas, it wasn't, and they were not stupid. Every morning he'd look exhausted. He'd collapse to sleep, just when everyone would wake up. Always, at the door to the camp, they would find a pile of supplies, ones they discussed about needing the day before. He wouldn't talk to them about it, but they all knew that the only thing saving his mind from the shadows was the seemingly endless sleep.

It's been a few months now, and he has almost disappeared. They haven't seen him in ages, except during the night- he stands watch by the fire. Disappears by morning, leaving a pile of supplies behind. None of them heard the howl of the hounds for seemingly decades.  
They know who to thank.

"I'm worried about him." stated Wilson, sitting down gently beside the elderly woman, who was busy reading in the tent.

She immediately knew who he is referring to, closing her book with a thud and a sigh. "Aren't we all... the boy hasn't shown his face in so long, I doubt I can recall his face accurately. Do you think he has his own camp?"

"I don't know- hell, I hope so. Who knows what he does all day without one?" He shrugged, gazing through the opening in the tent. Miss W cackled softly, careful on her old lungs.

"Wilson, since when do you curse?"

He startled and turned red, pulling at his collar. "I- I supposed his foul language rubbed off on me in his absence..." Sighed the not-so-gentleman scientist, "This boy... We need to find him. We have to. He can't survive like this on his own, even if he's a capable fighter- and he's just a child, how could he be? The shadows had to have penetrated his mind already, and I don't think he'll take the time to smell the flowers."

She hummed, putting her book to the side, "If he survived so far on his own, and without help like Wendy had, I am certain he can fight better than us all at his age. Still, you are correct in regards to Them- he should be teeming with inner darkness by now. Perhaps that is why he's been distancing himself, everyone reacts differently. Where should we search though?" She questioned.

He straightened up, smiling as he hatched a plan. "We need to lay a diplomatic trap! Stay awake, like you always do. Try to talk to him tonight, find out where he goes?"

She shook her head. "I try to speak to him every night, Wilson. He seems less and less willing to talk each night, and he never betrayed his camp."

"Well, We'll be there right there with you! I'm sure Wendy will stay up if we ask her- She has been very disappointed he disappeared-"

She nodded. "I noticed. I think she was happy to have someone closer to her age group among us."

"Yes. Well, She'll stay up, and I will- Only Maxwell needs convincing."

"The puppet king can stay asleep for all I care, it's not like he'll manage to get Dave talking." She waved in dismissal, wrinkling her nose in a frown.

"I don't know... Dave actually seems to talk the most when he's angry, doesn't he?" He suggested, "If Maxwell can piss him off well enough, maybe he'll manage to get him to talk like he won't with us."

"You think?" She raised an eyebrow, "I do not believe the boy is in need of more negativity. He needs a friend more than anything."

"Or maybe he just needs to blow off some high pressure steam. I mean, seeing Maxwell get yelled at by Dave is always a good time."

"True, the boy knows how to turn that monster speechless." She laughed again, smiling at the thought. "We'll see tonight- we'll have an intervention. Will you convince that hideous monarch to stay up? I'm afraid you're the only one he listens to."

"I guess." He shuddered, pouting, "I think he appreciates me freeing him. That has to be that, right?"  
"Makes sense to me. Now, I'll go talk to Wendy. She should know to prepare for a busy, sleepless night. If not Maxwell, she'll be the one to get Dave to talk I think."

"Really? Why's that?"

"They seem to understand each other. I once overheard him referring to her as... What was it- "La-loan"?" She waved her hand, uncertain, "Something of the like, a name that is apparently familiar enough for him to use it as character judgment reference."

"La-loan? Maybe we can ask him if he chooses to stay." He asked, rubbing his chin. She shook her head.

"We'll think about that after we've convinced him."

He nodded and stood up. "Alright. Tell me how it went with Wendy ok? I'll keep you updated about Maxwell."

She nodded and joined him on her feet, with a little more difficulty. He helped her up. "Thank you, and yes."

They dispersed to their diplomatic tasks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoyed writing this one! Writing some Wilson and miss W is nice, it lets me break away from Dave a little. I needed a different conversation for once.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a crossover I rarely see, and likely for a good reason. These fandoms are nothing alike.  
> I am determined to get the most out of them anyway >:)  
> Comments are very much appreciated!


End file.
